Open Your Eyes
by Rabidnar
Summary: When Aubrey cracks under her father's pressure, Chloe is there to pick up the pieces. Two-shot.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Pitch Perfect or the characters!  
**Beta'd By: **Vanamo  
**A/N: **Despite that this is not my headcanon about Aubrey's past, the idea would NOT let me alone until I wrote it. Chapter 1 is Aubrey!centric. Chapter 2 is Aubrey/Chloe.

* * *

**Open Your Eyes**

* * *

_Get up, get out, get away from these liars,  
'Cause they don't get your soul or your fire.  
Take my hand, knot your fingers through mine,  
And we'll walk from this dark room for the last time._

* * *

"You're an embarrassment to this family."

The verbal punches had been flying from her father's mouth for at least an hour now. Aubrey stood as straight as a soldier in the middle of the kitchen and let each and every word sink in as though she hadn't heard the criticism before. But in truth, she knew the lecture verbatim. She wasn't perfect, therefore she wasn't trying hard enough. She ruined every chance she had to make her father proud. She wasn't fit to be a part of the family he had built. The words he so often repeated cut through her very core, and she took them in with determination to learn from them. It was all she could do if she wanted to make him happy. The next chance she had, she would prove herself. She would be what he wanted as a daughter – whatever that was. This would be the last time he had to go through the trouble of reminding her that she was worthless. It would be the last time she was ridiculed in front of her brothers and grandfather for not matching up to the family name. She didn't know how many times she had convinced herself of that, but it didn't matter, because this time would be different. She _would_ change and she _would_ be perfect.

She stared intently at a spot on the wall just past the firmly-built man in front of her. He stood there with perfect posture, wearing a crisp white button-down shirt and black slacks that made him appear as if he'd been at a meeting all day as opposed to home taking care of two boys and an elderly man. In her entire life, she had never seen him dress in anything other than business clothes and his military uniform. She wouldn't be surprised if he slept in such clothes. For all she knew, he probably did. Her fingers twitched and she fought to remain as perfectly still as he was as she waited for him to continue on then dismiss her to her room. At least once he banished her from his sight, she could come up with an excuse to text Chloe and distract herself, providing he didn't shut off her cell service. She wouldn't be surprised if he had done that already, considering the amount of trouble she was in. The thought of being cut off from everyone she knew for yet another break caused her to twitch again. She quickly stilled herself and tried to pretend as though she hadn't moved. She clenched her jaw in determination to meet his expectations.

"You're not even listening to a word I say." Her father shook his head and slapped his thighs with his hands. He breathed a laugh of disbelief and looked at his father, an equally well-dressed and postured man, who was sitting at the kitchen table with two young boys. "It's like talking to a goddamn wall."

The elderly man placed his fork on his plate and swallowed the food that was in his mouth before speaking in a rickety voice, "You were the same way, Son." He picked up his napkin with quivering hands and wiped his mouth. "That girl just needs discipline. You give her too much damn leeway to do what she wants." He motioned to her with his napkin. "You tell her to stand still and she's over there twitching like she's an epileptic."

_Don't move. _Aubrey pressed her lips together and refused to even glance at her grandfather out of the corner of her eye. _You can do this. _

"You're going to stand there until you listen to me," her father said and looked at her again, "Is that clear? Do I need to repeat everything I said to you?"

Aubrey drew in a slow breath and shifted her gaze to her father. She couldn't let him know she found it hard to meet his gaze when he was lecturing her. It would be taken as a sign of weakness. "No, Sir," she assured him, "I have heard everything you said, Sir." She tried to drown out the background noise of silverware scraping against plates as the rest of her family finished their dinner. The scent of her grandfather's homemade bread had her subtly swallowing the excess saliva building in her mouth. Neither she nor her father would be eating tonight. She had ruined the family dinner by arriving home for break. Her father couldn't let her catastrophe at the finals go undealt with until later. She was being punished, and he was sacrificing his mealtime to make sure she learned a valuable lesson. Not that she had learned it the last eighty-times he taught it, as he reminded her.

"Your mother would be ashamed of you if she was here." He ran his hand over his short-cropped greying hair and looked positively appalled by the young woman standing in front of him. "I don't know how she saw you fit to call you our daughter."

Aubrey gasped a little before she could hold back. He'd never used those words on her before, and she felt gut-punched. His words slammed into her out of nowhere as if they were his knuckles taking a clean hit at her abdomen. She wavered before she clenched her fists and dug her nails into her palms to distract herself from the tears that suddenly burned her eyes. "My mother loved me," she managed in a tone just above a whisper. She tried to keep her voice steady but it still cracked and left her disgusted with herself. "Sir," she added, before he could correct her for not finishing her sentence.

"Love?" Her father asked. "Is that what you think that was?" He stepped forward and grabbed her by the wrist, yanking her in closer to him.

Aubrey stumbled then corrected her posture as quickly as she could. The thick stench of whiskey on his breath was enough to make her hold her breath to prevent herself from gagging. Her proneness to vomiting was what had started this. Not being able to help it was nothing more than an excuse. It was a miracle he was still standing with alcohol in his system, let alone doing it so perfectly. Her shame deepened. She stood stiffer than usual as his grip on her arm tightened enough that she was sure it would bruise. He had never grabbed her before. Every eye in the room was on her. "Yes, Sir," she stuck up for her mother. Her stomached rolled and she swallowed down the bile rising in the back of her throat.

"Your mother thought you were weak." He released her wrist while simultaneously pushing her back away from him. "If she had been at that acapello show of yours…"

"Acapella, Sir," Aubrey corrected him. The words slipped out before she could stop them. Her shoulders tensed and she momentarily stopped breathing again. She tried to stop her hands from shaking and lifted her chin, hoping he'd be too distracted by her perfect posture to take offense to her correction. She knew she had no right to say that.

He paused for a moment. "Excuse me?" he asked.

Aubrey fumbled for words. "It's called Acapella," she managed, "Sir." She tried to quell her passion for the Barden Bellas, the only thing that made sense to her right now. By the time she realized her mistake in her choice of response, it was too late to simply apologize, but she still tried. "I'm sorry."

"Did I ask you to speak?" he inquired.

Aubrey shook her head. "No, Sir," she answered.

"Then shut your goddamn mouth while I speak to you," he commanded.

"Yes, Sir." The room was silent and her face flushed with heat as she could feel everyone staring at her, just waiting for her to make the wrong move again. It was like a competition between her and her father, and she just kept losing. She almost wished he'd have gone through with his threats to staple her mouth shut when she was a child. It might have prevented her from singing, but it wouldn't be as hard to please him if she just never spoke the wrong words. It wasn't as though the only thing she had ever been good at was making him proud. She kept failing even at singing.

"Now, if your mother had been at that Acapella show of yours while you puked all over the goddamn stage, she probably would have rushed up on that stage and been holding your hair back because she'd think you're weak," her father told her, "She didn't love you. She felt bad that you'd never match up, Aubrey. What the hell kind of name is Aubrey anyway? I told her naming you something that girly would ruin you for the rest of your life. But she always had to have her own way."

"Please don't talk about her like that, Sir," Aubrey spoke up again, "She was a good woman." As hard as she tried to be silent, she couldn't stop defending her mother. She couldn't stop speaking and let him belittle her. She squeezed her eyes shut to lock back the tears then opened them again and stared past him with blurry vision.

"That she was," he finally agreed with something she had to say. But being on the same page didn't last for long. "It's too bad you're nothing like her. Now get out of my sight."

The words stung but Aubrey almost sighed in relief when he dismissed her. She held back, knowing that any sign of relief would just lead to him furthering her discomfort. She took a tentative step backward toward the archway between the kitchen and living room. "I'll be in my room, Sir." She glanced at the stairs against the right wall in the living room. She just needed to climb them then she was free to lock herself in her room with her phone and laptop for the rest of the evening. She was no longer hungry. The smell of food suddenly just made the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach worse. She wanted to get away and be alone.

"No." Her father calmly shook his head and spoke as though the conversation were completely casual. "I want you out of this house."

"Acascuse," Aubrey fumbled to make sense, "I mean, excuse me?" She blinked a few times, unsure what she was even saying or if she'd heard him correctly. She froze mid-step and slowly lowered her foot flat to the floor while doing her best not to break posture. Her lips remained pursed in a straight line and any trace of emotion was shoved back.

"You heard me," her father answered firmly, "I said get out. You can return tomorrow when I can stand to look at you again."

She forced a closed-lipped smile to ease the panic welling in her gut. "Sir, where am I supposed to go?" The corners of her lips twitched. The room felt low on oxygen. He had never gone as far as to kick her out before. At least not overnight.

"What, you don't have any friends in that pathetic excuse for a club you joined?" her father inquired.

The oldest of her younger brothers snorted loudly and dropped his fork on his plate. "Who'd want to be friends with her?" His lips twisted into a self-satisfied grin when she turned to glare at him.

Aubrey helplessly shifted her gaze from the sixteen year old to her grandfather, who looked just as stern as her father. "You can't just let him kick me out," she stated. She tried to sound confident, but her voice wavered.

"Respect your elders," her grandfather demanded simply.

Aubrey folded her arms tightly across her chest. It didn't matter how she stood now. She had already screwed up. Again. "Fine," she said, trying to sound apathetic. Her chin quivered against her will. "I'll just sleep in my car."

Her brothers were both focused on her every move, waiting to call her out on her mistakes. "Drama queen," the sixteen year old murmured at her choice of response.

Her ten year old brother laughed at him. "Dad, remember that time you said she was my age and kicked a soccer ball into the wrong goal and she got so upset she puked all over the car and she had to sit there until Mom got home and cleaned her up like three hours later."

Aubrey turned to face him and shot him a disgusted look.

"Careful," the sixteen your old murmured, "She might get upset and puke all over your food."

"Shut up!" Aubrey blurted out, "You're the ones Mom would be ashamed of."

"Enough!" Her father thundered. He looked at the boys. "Shut your goddamn mouths and eat your food."

"Yes, Sir," they murmured in unison. They smirked at Aubrey then turned their attention back to what remained of their dinner.

Aubrey stared at them for a moment, lost in memories of when they used to treat her as an equal. That was back when their mother had been around. She looked at her father and forced her expression to be blank then turned and marched from the room with her head held high. She got off easier if she took his disgust for her 'like a man'.

It wasn't until she knew she was out of sight in the living room that she stopped walking. She shut her eyes and gave her stomach a moment to settle. But it was only a matter of time before he'd come looking for her, just to make sure that she had obeyed him and left. She opened her eyes again and didn't even think about packing a bag. He hadn't given her permission. She stormed forward toward the door and was snatching her keys up off the end table when the only picture in the room of her and her mother caught her eye. She stuffed her keys in her pocket and grabbed the photo off the wall, holding it tightly to her chest as she fled to her car.

xxxxx

Two hours passed like ten as Aubrey sat cramped in her car with her feet on the seat and her arms tightly crossed. She had shoved the photograph under the passenger's side seat, unable to continue staring at it after an hour had passed. Tears stung her eyes, and even though she was alone, she focused on steady breathing and refused to let them fall. If someone walked outside and saw her bawling like a baby, she'd never hear the end of it. It would be just one more thing to add to her list of imperfections. She could fill a book with all the weaknesses and imperfections she was made up of. She sniffled and pressed her palms hard against her eyes then dropped her hands to her lap and looked at the clock. It was just after eight and only five minutes had passed since she last looked at the time. She puffed out her cheeks and pulled her phone out of her pocket, trying to comfort herself by looking for any new messages. Nothing. Chloe should have texted her by now to make sure she got home alright. She relied on her friend's habit of checking up on her, even during break, more than she'd like to admit. Not seeing a new message from her only furthered the emotions she was trying so hard to hold back.

She drew in a breath then jammed her thumb against the phone keys as she dialed Chloe's number with the intent of chewing her out for not texting. The angry phone calls she made to Chloe happened so often on breaks that she was surprised her friend still even answered her phone. It was always the same thing, and she could practically outline the entire call. Chloe would answer in a sickeningly cheery voice, and Aubrey would respond by naming every mistake she thought Chloe had made. Chloe would defend herself. Aubrey would retaliate by spewing a few insults to release her pent up anger. Chloe would be the first to raise her voice and they'd engage in a yelling match until Aubrey eventually hung up on her. It was a method of taking out her anger that she had picked up from her father, and as much as she hated herself for it, she still did it. Eventually, whoever let loose the worst insult would call back and apologize and the argument would be forgotten until it happened again. She pressed the phone to her ear but she was met with silence. It had been shut off.

She growled loudly in frustration and roughly threw the phone into the backseat. Her lower lip stuck out in a pout and her breaths came heavy with rage at her father and mainly at herself. She grabbed her key off the passenger's side seat and jammed it into the ignition. She knew she could drive away from him, and she hoped that if she drove far enough, she could drive away from herself as well.


	2. Chapter 2

**FionaCoyneTheFourth: **I'm glad you like the way it's written. Thank you!  
**Guest: **They're always a couple in my head. Haha.  
**Do vd Graaf: **Ikr.  
**chloebeale: **Thank you so much for the compliment on my writing. It means a lot - especially when I'm trying to write emotional pieces. My own actual headcanon is a little different than this, which I may address in another fic. I hope you like this chapter.

* * *

**Open Your Eyes**

* * *

_Get up, get out, get away from these liars,  
'Cause they don't get your soul or your fire.  
Take my hand, knot your fingers through mine,  
And we'll walk from this dark room for the last time._

* * *

Aubrey's knuckles were white as she gripped the steering wheel and accelerated the car to three miles above the speed limit – which was seriously speeding for her. She was exhausted and the tears refused to stop, and she just wanted to get to Chloe's house and sleep. She had been driving for hours, stopping only once when she was forced to give into her screwed up stomach and throw up alongside the road. It was a lengthy trip and adding an extra fifteen minutes to the journey because she couldn't keep herself together only fueled the anger she held for herself. She swallowed thickly and dug her nails against the pink, fabric cover around the steering wheel as she sniffled and turned onto Chloe's road. It was dark and she felt like she might never get there when she had to slow down the car in order to search for her house through blurred vision. She had only ever been there once, and all of the houses looking exactly the same (at least to her) didn't help. If it wasn't for the numbers on the mailboxes, she might have seriously considered backtracking to the Wawa she saw along the highway and calling from a payphone.

If her disgust with herself didn't distress her enough, her desperation to get a hold of the one person who didn't think she was completely flawed did. If her father knew that she had responded to his criticism by seeking out comfort rather than by relentlessly trying to better herself, she would be done for. She was torn between her desperation to prove herself and her desire to be around the person who told her she was okay just the way she was. She never believed Chloe when she tried to reassure her that she didn't need to be constantly striving to be perfect, but moments when she was around her and could just relax were what kept her together. Maybe that was her problem though. She let Chloe soften her and diminish her determination. She considered turning around and driving back home, but by that time she was already pulling into the driveway. And she knew that she would never be able to keep her eyes open long enough to road trip back home. It was starting to seem like she'd never be able to do _anything_ she should be able to.

She pulled into the driveway and put her car into park then sat there for about thirty seconds before she finally turned off her headlights and stared at the house in front of her. It was what one might describe as cozy. It was what her father would simply describe as typical working-class. Aubrey had turned her nose up at the place last time she had been there. She had been nitpicky about the lack of space and the neighbors being too close for comfort. At one point, she had accidentally offended Chloe by all the complaints she had. But as she stared at it now, she wondered what it would be like to live in such an area. She glanced at her surroundings and felt out of place.

The Posen house was not what one would consider a mansion, but four bedrooms and 2.5 bathrooms was not exactly small either. Chloe's house had one bathroom and two bedrooms, one of which Chloe had shared with her older sister until she graduated college. The Beales ate in the same room they cooked in and their grill was on the grass because there wasn't enough room for it on the patio along with a table and chairs. They had friendly neighbors on either side, albeit the right side neighbors were apparently a little strange, and Chloe knew the entire block by name. The elderly man three houses down was notorious for borrowing eggs and the young woman two houses up baked the best cookies – which she shared every single holiday. Chloe had told her enough about where she lived that sometimes Aubrey felt as though she lived there too. But her experience wasn't even similar. Aubrey knew her neighbors on the right, as she had gone to the same private high school with their daughter during her junior and senior year. The neighbors on the left had a fence. And no one sunk low enough to borrow food from each other. She wondered if that was the kind of life her mother had opted for – one where people borrowed eggs.

Aubrey swallowed the lump forming in the back of her throat and realized she was visibly shaking with resentment. She couldn't be seen like that. She hit the button for the ceiling light then roughly pulled down her visor to look in the mirror. Her mascara was smeared underneath her eyes and her face was wet and splotchy from crying. She could barely stand to look at herself, let alone make Chloe look at her. She leaned over to the passenger's side of the car and supported herself with one hand on the seat as she opened her glove compartment and rifled through it for a pack of tissues. There was one left in the plastic, traveled-sized package. She pulled it out and shut the glove compartment door then straightened back up. Her efforts to make herself appear presentable were futile as she scrubbed at her face with the tissue, but she at least managed to make the tears stop. She sniffled loudly and stuffed the tissue in the pocket of her black slacks then pushed open the door and climbed out of the car.

The fresh air was a breath of relief. She stretched her aching limbs. Her clothes were wrinkled from the car ride and she shut the door with one hand then attempted to straighten out the white button down she was wearing as she turned to face Chloe's house again. She stared helplessly up at her window. This would have been easier if her phone was working, because she wasn't about to knock on the door and wake Chloe's parents. They liked her about as much as her own father did. She had once overhead Chloe on the phone with her mother, claiming that Aubrey wasn't stuck-up and snobby. It turned into an argument between Chloe and her mother. Chloe had dismissed it when Aubrey brought it up, telling her that she had heard wrong, but Aubrey had been listening in longer than she admitted to Chloe. She had only met Chloe's mother once, and while she seemed polite enough, she was convinced that the woman would get a kick out of seeing her like this. But Aubrey saw the worst in all parents.

It would be light out soon enough, but sleeping in her car until Chloe woke up was out of the question. She would never fall asleep knowing that her best friend was only a few feet away yet still so out of reach. Aubrey rocked back on her heels and scanned her surroundings then looked down at the ground. She glanced back and forth between the window and the pebbles that lined the driveway several times. She wondered if this could get anymore cliché and how likely it was that she would break Chloe's window. She could always buy her a new one. She knelt down and picked up the cleanest looking pebble she could find then straightened up and glanced around to make sure no one was watching before chucking it at Chloe's window. The pebble hit the glass with a sharp smack then clattered down the roof underneath. Silence followed.

Aubrey pressed her lips together and let out a breath of frustration through her nose. She knelt down and gathered a handful of the rocks then stood back up and began tossing them at the window one by one. After a few moments, and the knowledge that Chloe was a heavy sleeper, impatience got the best of her and she began to toss three at a time.

xxxxx

During Chloe's freshman year of college, there had been a boy down the street who regretted not sharing his feelings with her during high school. To be quite honest, Chloe didn't even remember him from high school. But he took to throwing rocks at her window during every school break, and had his own rendition of Taylor Swift's _Hey, Stephen_ called _I'm Steven_. The only lyrics she remembered were 'Of all the boys tossing rocks at your window, I'll be the one waiting there even when it's cold'. And, her personal favorite, 'The way you walk, way you talk, way you say my name. It's beautiful, wonderful, don't you ever change' (which was always sung after she'd shout 'I'm not having sex with you, Steven!'). Long story short, she had sex with him under the patio in the middle of December, and it was not an experience she cared to repeat no matter how warm it was outside. So when the first rock smacked her window, she just turned up the volume of her music and began to absently sing along.

It wasn't until multiple rocks were being thrown at a time and she thought her window was going to break that she stopped singing and lowered her feet from where they were propped up on her desk to the floor. She leaned over her desk and cupped her hands against the window as she tried to peer outside. She couldn't see anything. More rocks hit the glass. Heaving a sigh, she twisted the lock at the top of the window then placed her fingers under the ledge and lifted the glass up above her head. She dodged a pebble as it flew past her then ricocheted off her desk. "I have a phone, you know!" she yelled out the window then leaned back over her desk, "And I changed your ringtone to We Are Never Ever Ever Getting Back Together!" _That should do it. _She leaned her weight against her hands and looked down at the person on the lawn as she waited for them to leave. But the outline of the stick thin figure and head of blonde hair that she could just barely make out did not belong to Steven – and neither did the expensive car in her driveway. She furrowed her brows and leaned forward even further, almost lying on her desk at that point. "Aubrey?"

Aubrey dropped the rest of the pebbles on the ground then folded her arms and stared silently up at Chloe leaning out the window.

"What are you doing?" Chloe called.

"Are you…" Aubrey cleared her throat in a futile attempt to make her voice less hoarse. "Are you going to let me in?" she called back. The irritation in her voice was almost palpable.

Chloe's mouth formed an 'o' shape and she looked around then held up one finger. She pushed herself back away from her desk then snatched her phone up. The number of times Chloe had checked her phone for a message from Aubrey since returning home was bordering ridiculous, but she found herself quickly scrolling through her texts again to make sure she hadn't missed one. She had sent Aubrey three texts and called her twice, but her messages had been left unanswered and her calls had been sent straight to voicemail. It wasn't unusual for Aubrey to give her the silent treatment, but never in a million years did she expect her to show up at her house without calling first. She was in shock she was even there at all. She tossed her phone back onto the desk then hurried out of her room without even bothering to put on socks or shoes.

Just down the hall, Chloe's mother was sleeping, so she tiptoed her way down the stairs then again past her father – who was passed out on the couch. Though if the old Western blasting on the TV didn't wake him, nothing would. She flipped on the porch light then opened the front door a crack and slid outside.

Aubrey hovered near the hood of her car, not even glancing at Chloe as she stepped out onto the porch then shut the door behind her.

Chloe stepped down the stairs and stood barefoot in the damp grass. Aubrey folded her arms and leaned against her car as she looked at the ground.

"Hey," Chloe called as she approached her, a confused smile on her face, "What are you doing here?" She glanced at the driveway and tried to make sure she wasn't about to step on any sharp rocks before she came to a stop a few feet away from Aubrey and looked up at her again.

Aubrey's head snapped up. She thought she would at least have a few moments to figure out what she was going to say. She stood up straighter and folded her arms tighter, staring past Chloe at the house behind her. "I wanted to make sure you got home okay," she answered firmly. A smooth lie was better than fumbling for words.

Chloe tilted her head. "Aubrey, you live hours away," she said slowly, "You could have just called." She paused. "Didn't you get my texts?"

Aubrey shot her a defensive look. "I was just checking up on you." She dropped her hands to sides in feigned exasperation.

Chloe was tempted to retaliate, but Aubrey had left her speechless. She couldn't lie and say that Aubrey wasn't a bit neurotic (okay, a lot neurotic) at times, but driving hours to her house just to make sure she got home had crossed the line to crazy. Aubrey wasn't crazy. Chloe stepped in front of her and tried to get a good look at her through the darkness. Her eyes looked red and puffy and she was undeniably pouting with her lower lip stuck out like that. Something was definitely wrong. "Have you been crying?" Chloe asked.

Aubrey turned to face her and looked her straight in the eye. "No," she said strongly. More than anything she wanted to admit that she had been, but pride stood in her way. A sudden sniffle gave her away. She clenched her hands and pressed her nails against her palms.

Chloe opened her mouth to speak then shut it again. She didn't want to press the situation and make it worse, which was what always happened when she pressed things with Aubrey. "Okay," she said quietly and took a tentative step closer to her friend, "Let's just go inside, okay?" Aubrey nodded. Chloe put a hand lightly on her lower back when she stepped away from the car and led her toward the door. Once they were inside, she slid her arm around Aubrey's waist and started toward the stairs. Aubrey tensed at the movement then relaxed into it and followed her in silence, looking at the floor as she walked. Chloe watched her carefully, used to seeing her walking with her head held high. Aubrey eyed Chloe's father as they sneaked past him then broke away from her hold as they climbed the steps so that neither of them would trip.

The bedroom was still dark and Chloe nudged her laundry basket out of the middle of the floor with her foot. She bent over it and dug through her clothes, trying to find something that Aubrey could wear as pajamas, seeing as she was still wearing the clothes she had left school in.

Aubrey stepped inside and made her way to Chloe's bed. She sat down on the edge of it and rolled her shoulders to relax herself. It didn't work. Her head was pounding from tears she couldn't hold back on the car ride over, and the music echoing through the room was making it worse. Not to mention, the lyrics hit a nerve.

_See, my old man's got a problem,_

_Live with a bottle, that's the way it is._

_He says his body's too old for working._

_His body's too young to look like this._

_My mama went off and left him,_

_She wanted more from life than he could give._

Aubrey glanced over at the laptop and recognized the name of a cover band Chloe had been going on and on about at school, trying to convince her to branch out listen to them. She definitely didn't want to listen to _Boyce Avenue_ now. She reached over and slammed the laptop shut then placed her hands on the edge of the bed.

Chloe glanced up as the room went entirely black, the greenish glow-in-the-dark stars that plastered the ceiling not bright enough to shed a slight bit of useful light. She tightened the grip on the silk nightgown she was holding and tugged it out of the basket then found her way to her desk by memory. Her foot found the wooden leg before she did, and she murmured, "shit", and fumbled for the light.

Aubrey folded her arms and looked up at the stars on the ceiling until Chloe reached the lamp and turned it on. It suddenly felt like she was looking straight at the sun. She squinted her eyes and lowered her gaze so she was staring at the place where the wall met the floor.

Chloe placed the nightgown on the bed then pulled her chair over so it was positioned in front of Aubrey. She straightened out her own nightgown then sat down and leaned forward with her hands resting on her legs. She offered a small smile, of which Aubrey refused to return. Instead, the blonde just looked down at her hands and played with her fingers.

Chloe reached over and took her hands in her own to stop her from fidgeting. "What happened?" She tried to keep her voice soothing and to catch Aubrey's eye, but she was dead-set on not looking at her.

Aubrey pulled her hands away to wipe at her face then dropped them back down to her lap. She shook her head. "Nothing," she answered and tried to remain calm and collected.

Chloe left her hands resting on Aubrey's legs. She tilted her head. "You ignored all of my texts and calls, and drove hours to get to my house in the middle of the night, Bree." She lightly squeezed her leg. "Something happened."

Aubrey just shrugged and continued to stare stubbornly at the wall with her jaw clenched and her shoulders tense.

Chloe leaned back slightly but her fingertips continued to rest on Aubrey's knees. She had never seen her friend so silent before. Since she met her in Freshman year, she had always been ready with quick, eloquent remarks. But she had been different since she vomited all over the stage during the finals. She had been more quiet and anxious than usual. The most Chloe heard her speak was when she was pacing in their dorm, stressing over what she was going to tell her father about the competition. It suddenly struck her that maybe speaking to her father didn't go over as well as Aubrey would have liked it to. Chloe didn't know much about Aubrey's father, but she knew he was hard on her. She gently rubbed Aubrey's leg.

"You can talk to me, you know?" Chloe urged gently. She knew not to pry but that sometimes Aubrey just needed a nudge. She was one of the only people Aubrey ever let her walls down for, but she knew it was still hard for her to be vulnerable in front of anyone – even her. "I'm not gonna tell anyone anything you say."

Aubrey opened her mouth to speak then changed her mind and shut it again. She turned her head and finally met Chloe's eyes. "There's nothing to say," she said simply.

Chloe nodded. It would be no use pushing it. "Okay." She offered a sympathetic smile then squeezed Aubrey's knee and got to her feet. "It's late. I'm going to get an extra pillow. You should change into something more comfortable, okay?"

Aubrey glanced down at the clothes she was wearing. She nodded and picked up the nightgown that Chloe had placed on the bed. Chloe was a good deal shorter than she was, but it looked long enough to fit.

Chloe walked over to the door and shut it as Aubrey began to unbutton her shirt. She glanced at her to make sure she was okay then walked over to the closet and pulled it open. She could feel Aubrey's eyes on her as she bent down and began to dig through her things in search of another pillow. Her organizational skills weren't exactly something that Aubrey would refer to as 'skills'. She tossed a few shirts to the side then picked up a shirtless fireman calendar from 2002 and flipped through the first few months before throwing that out of the way too. Aubrey's eyes were practically boring into her at that point. She lowered her head and looked at Aubrey from underneath her arm. "I can feel you judging me," she stated, "Your lack of being vocal about it is making me nervous."

"If you cleaned your room once every five years, you might find what you're looking for," Aubrey voiced immediately.

That was the Aubrey she knew. Chloe arched a brow and searched for a light-hearted retaliation, which wasn't easy considering they were in her house. She smirked at the length (or lack thereof) of the nightgown that Aubrey was now wearing. "I can see your underwear," she teased, "Is that Hello Kitty?"

Aubrey looked down then scowled and gripped the font of the nightgown, shoving it down between her legs and holding it there with a clenched fist. "No," she defended herself firmly, "I don't even know what Hello Kitty is."

It wouldn't surprise Chloe if she was telling the truth. She finally grabbed the pillow she had been looking for and stood up straight. She turned to face Aubrey just as she was lying down in bed and getting comfortable. The two of them were used to sharing a bed together. They had been doing so for years. It started the second semester of freshman year when they moved into the same dorm room after Chloe's roommate never returned to school after spring break and Aubrey became fed-up with her roommate (or the other way around).The two of them would spend evenings sharing headphones as they listened to music on Aubrey's iPod. Chloe would fall asleep on Aubrey's bed and wake up the next morning with Aubrey fast asleep beside her. She questioned why Aubrey didn't wake her and send her back to her own bed once. Aubrey claimed that she tried, but it was like trying to wake Sleeping Beauty. Chloe was tempted to suggest kissing her, but kept her mouth shut. One night, she pretended to fall asleep just to see if Aubrey did try to wake her up. After about thirty minutes, Aubrey just put her iPod away and snuggled under the blankets beside her. Chloe thought that Aubrey secretly liked that she was a cuddler and usually ended up with an arm around her. She didn't want to be full of herself, but she liked to think that she provided Aubrey with some sense of security.

Chloe tossed the pillow over Aubrey then walked over to the bed. She was in the process of climbing over her when she noticed Aubrey rubbing her wrist. Frowning, she straightened up, one leg still on either side of Aubrey. She balanced herself with one hand on Aubrey's shoulder then reached down and carefully moved her hand away from her wrist. She just barely caught sight of the bruise when Aubrey roughly yanked her arm away and knocked Chloe over her and onto her back.

"What the hell?" Chloe demanded. She rolled over onto her side and propped herself up on her arm. "Bree, what the hell happened?" She placed her arm back on Aubrey's shoulder and pushed herself back up into a kneeling position.

Aubrey clenched her jaw and narrowed her eyes at the wall. "I was going over our choreography and I fell," she growled, "Back off, Chloe."

"Well someone must have caught you," Chloe pointed out, her eyes wide, "Because that's a handprint." She tried to get another look at the bruise. "Who the hell did that to you?"

Aubrey tensed her arm where Chloe's hand was and silently just continued to rub her wrist and stare at the wall.

"Did your dad do this?" Chloe pushed. She could let a lot of things go, but this wasn't one of them. She reached forward to touch her wrist.

Aubrey shoved her off of her again. "He never touched me before this, okay?" she claimed harshly, not taking her eyes off the wall. "He was just pissed off over the Bellas. Now back _off_."

Chloe slowly lowered herself onto her back, trying to take in the information. She looked up at the ceiling, doubting now that either of them would be getting any sleep.

xxxxx

If Aubrey had developed a plan for showing up at Chloe's house in the middle of the night, it wouldn't have gone anything like this. She had been there for an hour and neither of them was touching or speaking. She was sure she had never felt more alone in Chloe's presence before. But that was her fault, and she knew it. The first thing she had done upon arriving was shut her out. She rubbed at her face with the back of her hand as she sniffled then tucked her hands under her head and curled her legs up closer to her body. Her head was still aching and she couldn't manage to block out her father's words long enough to close her eyes and get some rest. The amount of pain they caused repeatedly tightened her chest and made it hard to breathe. She could feel Chloe shifting behind her and checking on her to make sure she was okay whenever she choked for more oxygen. She almost wished she'd just fall asleep so she'd wrap an arm around her and ease some of the hurt. But Chloe wouldn't sleep so long as Aubrey was awake.

"He said I'm nothing like her," she finally whispered. Her voice was thick with unshed tears and she barely even recognized it as her own. She sniffled again and rubbed at her nose.

Chloe drew in a slow breath and turned her head to face Aubrey's back. "Who said what now?" she asked, but she was met with silence. She stifled a yawn and propped herself up with her elbows then rolled onto her side. "Aubrey, you can't just bottle up whatever's bothering you. That's what makes you sick." She draped an arm over her then rested her head against her shoulder. Aubrey glanced up at her then looked down at the bed and pressed her lips together. Chloe sighed. She nuzzled her face comfortingly against Aubrey's shoulder then gently began to remove the tie and bobby pins that pulled her hair back in an attempt to make her more comfortable.

"Do you think that I should quit the Bellas?" Aubrey asked. The question came out strangled.

"What? No," Chloe answered without missing a beat. She stopped playing with Aubrey's hair and leaned over her to get a better look at her. "You love the Bellas more than you love anything, and you're amazing. Why would you want to quit? Next year is going to be our year, Aubrey."

Aubrey clenched her jaw and shook her head. "I puked us to the bottom." She rolled onto her back and looked up at Chloe. "Who is going to want to be on a team with me?"

"Me," Chloe answered firmly. She leaned over Aubrey, supporting herself with her arm on the bed and her head against her hand. "We're going to be co-captains. And everyone is going to forget about the finals, you know why?" She continued without waiting for an answer. "Because we're going to put together the best team Acapella has ever seen and we're going to kick some Treble ass."

She sounded so confident, but Aubrey was nowhere near convinced. She shifted into a more comfortable position. "My dad thinks I should quit." She shrugged her shoulders. "Maybe he's right."

Chloe scoffed at Aubrey's father's words. "Aubrey, your dad has thought you should quit everything you have ever enjoyed," she reminded her, "If it were up to him, you would be miserable all of the time." She brushed Aubrey's hair out of her face. "You are your own person. You don't have to be everything he wants you to be, Bree."

Aubrey leaned her head to the side and looked away from Chloe. "_She_ was everything he wanted her to be." She swallowed thickly and shook her head. "If I could be more like her, I could – I could be someone he's proud of."

"Who is _she_?" Chloe sat up and propped herself up with her hand.

"My mother," Aubrey whispered and shifted uncomfortably. She hadn't spoken of her since she last saw her. She folded her arms and took a deep breath. "She left, you know?"

"I didn't know that," Chloe replied quietly. She furrowed her brows in sympathy. "You never told me."

Aubrey shut her eyes. "The day after I graduated high school, she was just…" She shrugged her shoulders. "She was just gone. And she never came back."

Chloe shook her head and looked down at the bed. "I am so sorry." She paused and pressed her lips together. "You know, maybe you remind him too much of her," she suggested, "Maybe he looks at you and he thinks of her."

Aubrey opened her eyes again. She drew in a breath and clenched her jaw then shook her head. "He's hated me since I was born," she admitted. Her face flushed with shame.

"Well then maybe it's a good thing you're not like her," Chloe tried again, "She left you, Bree."

"She was a good woman," Aubrey shot and sat up.

Chloe moved out of her way, taken aback by the sudden outburst. "How could someone who left you be good?" she asked softly.

"How dare you say that, Chloe?" Aubrey practically shouted, "She was perfect!"

Chloe's eyes darted in the direction of the door. "My parents are sleeping," she whispered, but her words had little use.

"Everybody loved her," Aubrey continued, "Even my father loved her, but she _hated_ him." She stood up, suddenly caught up in her own words. "She hated his attitude and she hated moving between military bases and she hated that he hated me."

Chloe watched at her, at a loss for words.

"She was always telling him how good at everything I was and trying to make me better so he'd want me, but he never did. I was _never_ enough. Then my brothers came along and…" Aubrey shrugged her shoulders. "…and they were good. They weren't perfect, but they were _good._ She tried to take me and leave, but I resented her because we had nowhere to go and I wanted some stupid big house and designer clothes and I didn't want to live in a car. So we stayed, and the day after I graduated, she just _left_." She clamped her eyes shut.

"Aubrey, your dad is screwed up, and it has nothing to do with you." Chloe got to her feet.

"If I was more like her…"

"You shouldn't need to be like somebody else to be loved, Aubrey," Chloe cut her off in an earnest voice, "You don't need to be like somebody else. You're you, and you're perfect just the way that you are."

Aubrey opened her eyes and shook her head. "I have to be…" She struggled for breath. "I have to be valedictorian." She placed one of her fingers against her palm. "I have to win the finals." She placed another finger on her palm. "I have to…" It hit her very suddenly that she was failing her father by crying about her failures and all that she needed to do. The weight of the world pressed down against her shoulders and overwhelmed her. She took a step back, bile rising up into her throat.

Chloe was one step ahead of her. She grabbed the paper can from beside her bed and was beside Aubrey within milliseconds. Aubrey lurched forward as she gagged and Chloe quickly twisted her hair back away from her face with her free hand. "Okay, Bree, you just need to calm down," she said softly but firmly as she eased them both to their knees. She placed the paper can on the floor then put her hand on Aubrey's back and waited for the retching to stop. "All you _have_ to do is relax."

Aubrey placed one hand flat on the floor and the other on her stomach. "He kicked me _out_," she choked between heaves. It had only been for one night, but it sure as heck felt like more than that. She knew he had waited a long time to even get rid of her for that long.

"It's okay," Chloe tried to reassure her, "You can stay here until school starts."

xxxxx

By morning, it would have been an understatement to say that Chloe wanted to rip out Mr. Posen's throat. If Aubrey had fallen asleep, Chloe might have driven to his house and done just that. But Aubrey didn't sleep, and Chloe was too busy alternating between holding her hair back while listening to her fears about her father's disappointment and being shoved away when her walls went back up to go anywhere – aside from back and forth between the bathroom and bedroom to clean out her paper can. She had never seen Aubrey so distressed. And as someone who lived with Aubrey during midterms and finals, she knew just how worked up she could get. She usually vomited once, Chloe calmed her down, and they worked through whatever was stressing her out. So when by 6am, Aubrey was still awake, and sick, Chloe was out of soothing words and she was _pissed._ She fought back her own tears of anger at one point and vowed not to let Aubrey return to her father – even if it meant kidnapping her. How one man could cause so much pain to his daughter was beyond her. Chloe never had the perfect relationship with her own father, but she at least knew he loved her and that he would never treat her how Aubrey's father thought his daughter should be treated. She eventually worked through her anger because her focus was Aubrey, not Mr. Posen. He didn't deserve her attention.

Around seven, Aubrey finally succumbed to sheer exhaustion. She passed out diagonal across the bed and on top of the blankets. While Chloe would have normally dragged her into a different position to make more room, she left it go. The uncomfortable position she was stuck in was better than the risk of waking Aubrey. She ended up settling down with one of her legs draped over Aubrey's back and the other bent and propped up against the wall. By eight, she had passed out too.

She estimated she got about an hour of sleep before she was being woken up again – this time by the bed vibrating. Chloe's eyes shot open and she bolted into a sitting position, ready to grab the paper can. She had no desire to change her comforter or Aubrey's clothing. Again. But, this time it wasn't gagging causing the bed to move. She scrubbed at her eyes to try to clear her vision and looked over at Aubrey. She was sitting up with her legs tucked up near her chest and her face hidden securely behind her hands. The suppressed sobs were almost more than Chloe could bear.

She ran her fingers through her hair and squeezed her eyes shut then opened them wide again in an effort to stay awake before maneuvering herself into a sitting position. Her muscles ached from how she had fallen asleep already. She leaned forward and grabbed Aubrey's arm in an effort to draw her in closer but Aubrey went rigid and didn't move. She stopped breathing to stop crying and Chloe let out an exhausted sigh. She inched forward to close the distance between them herself. Aubrey seemed frozen in place, like she hadn't expected Chloe to wake up. But, then again, Chloe once slept through the entire football team scrimmaging right outside their dorm room and the RA using a loud speaker to break it up. She rubbed her face and eased her arms around her friend, sliding one of her hands under the back of her nightgown and resting it between her shoulder blades. The skin to skin contact elicited a slight gasp from Aubrey.

"You know it's just us here, right?" Chloe murmured her voice hoarse from sleep. She tightened her hold on Aubrey, keeping her firmly rooted to her spot as she tried to move away. She waited for Aubrey to lash out and try to regain control, but fatigue seemed to get the better of her and she nearly collapsed back into the embrace before another weak attempt to push Chloe off. "I'm not judging you for being upset in front of me. I would never do that to you."

Aubrey shook her head. Chloe's hand slid up further under her nightgown until her fingers found her hair. "I'm better than this," Aubrey stated thickly.

"Aubrey, better than _what_?" Chloe asked, starting to get irritated, "You're going to ruin yourself like this. You can't keep pushing yourself until you break."

"Don't act like you understand," Aubrey spat, pulling away.

"I'm not acting like I understand, Aubrey," Chloe shot back, her voice going up an octave, "I'm trying to _help_ you and you're two seconds away from trying to pick a fight with me."

"Because he'll punish me if I don't!" Aubrey yelled, "I have to be the person he wants me to be!"

"He's not here, Aubrey!" Chloe raised her voice to match Aubrey's. Aubrey's head snapped up to look at her. "It's just me. Chloe. Your best friend. And I don't want you to be anyone other than who you are!" Aubrey was crying at this point and her frustration with herself for it was practically radiating off of her. Chloe shook her head. "You're not going back home to someone who makes you feel like shit for having feelings and being flawed like every other human in this world."

"You can't tell me where I can't go, Chloe," Aubrey argued. She scrubbed at her face, only managing to smear the tears across it.

"Aubrey, _stop_. You may boss me around all the time, but I'm not giving you a choice on this," Chloe stated firmly. She knew her decisions were often discounted, but she would enforce this one with all the power she had. "We're going to get through this together. Me and you."

"What am I supposed to tell him?" Aubrey asked.

Chloe's head was starting to ache. She closed her eyes for a moment then opened them again and let out a slow breath. "I don't know," she answered. She could already see the wheels turning in Aubrey's head as she tried to figure it out. "We can figure it out later though," she promised, "Because I am tired and _you_ are _exhausted_." She kicked down the blankets. She could see Aubrey rubbing her lower ribs and knew that she had to be hurting on top of being drained. "I will help you figure it out when we wake up." She flopped down on her back and sunk back against her pillow.

Aubrey only managed to sit there stubbornly for a few seconds before following the suit. She rolled over onto her side, tucked comfortably between Chloe's arm and side, and draped an arm over Chloe's midsection. She sniffled then tucked her face against Chloe's side and the mattress and closed her eyes.

"Next year, we'll move into an apartment like we planned and we won't have to worry about any of this," Chloe murmured. She sighed as Aubrey's breaths began to even out. "It'll be just me and you."

* * *

**A/N: **There is a chance that I'll continue this fic as more than a two-shot, but for now, I'll leave it at that. Thanks for reading!


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